


The Time After

by xshinanix



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Mental Instability, Mentions of Rape, Oral Sex, Sad Fluff, Sad smut, Self-Hatred, Smut, im sorry in advanced
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-15 03:30:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15403986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xshinanix/pseuds/xshinanix
Summary: After the nightmares comes the reflection period. Where one is left within their own mind and forced to relive horrible events over and over. Some develop unhealthy coping mechanisms while other learn to move on.It's this period where the victim must learn which way they shall go.





	The Time After

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [In the Gap Between](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11220354) by Anonymous. 



> I'm sorry in advanced. I actually cried and felt awful while writing this, but it was just something that wouldn't leave my mind ever since I read In the Gap Between. If you haven't read that oneshot yet, don't worry. You don't really have to to understand this story, but it's advised if you're comfortable with the topic of the fic. The only thing you really need to know is that the fic depicts a gap in time where Trunks is sexually assaulted by Goku Black. That being said, The Time After does touch upon the topic and explores my personal representation on how Trunks would hold such trauma. Please do not read if you're not comfortable with the topic of r*pe or the possible aftermath caused by it.
> 
> If you've come for a happy ending, you're not going to find one here.

Hot water burned his skin bright red as he stood under the head of the shower. He had lost track of how long he had been in here for. It felt like he had only just gotten in, but he knew he had to be reaching close to thirty or forty minutes now. He told himself he would try to hide what happened--act like himself around his family and friends. But taking long showers was not normal for him in the slightest.

There was an invisible layer of dirt on his skin. He could feel it. Feel the grim that coated every inch of his body. Feel the dirt that pulsed through his veins. Feel the ache in his muscles that were a screaming reminder. Feel the hands still on his body. He had scrubbed his skin raw since he had gotten in here, doing nothing but scratching at it with a washcloth and plenty of soap. He’d be surprised if a few places didn’t have little droplets of blood pooling to the surface.

He placed his head underneath the stream of water. His mouth opened and gasped for air. His throat felt like it was going to close in on itself. A pressure on his chest suffocating him while he was panting and gasping for one final breath. If he could just get the memories out of his damned head, he wouldn’t have to be standing here like a fool. Like the failure of a warrior he was. 

It had been a losing battle since before it began. Black was stronger than he was—always had been at that point. Trunks had already been weakened from the encounter with both Black and Zamasu. He was ultimately at a disadvantage. There’s was little to no way he could muster up enough strength to get away. Black knew that and extorted it. He had driven the feeling of helplessness and failure into him since the beginning.

But even though he knew he wouldn’t win, he still fought back. He fought back for as long as he could, not wanting...that to be his fate. But no matter how hard he kicked or how loud he screamed, there was no escaping the god that had towered over him. There was no escaping what was going to happen to him. But he’d be damned if he had sat back and let it happen.

What he hadn’t expected was how his body would react. Why did fighting back...excite him? Why did his body give in to the pain and treat it like pleasure? His only guess was his Saiyan physiology. He, however, had no true idea or hint as to if that was true. There was no way he could ask his father. Even though Vegeta wasn’t the type of pry and the question didn’t get way to what had happened, the mere idea of asking made his stomach churn with anxiety. What if Vegeta caught on? What would he say? Would he disown his son for being a failure?

Then there was the topic of her. His first reaction after it happened was what she’d think of him. He knew she was a kind soul--someone who would be understanding and caring--but his mind played tricks on him. Would she criticise him? Call him the failure he was? Call him weak and pathetic? Would she say the same things Black said to him as he pushed Trunks to his breaking point?

Would she ever find a way to forgive him for allowing such an act to happen? Would she still see him as a defender?

Trunks refused to think about this anymore, burying the thoughts deep down as he turned the shower off. He stepped out and grabbed the plush, white towel his mother had set out for him. He dried off and quickly got dressed in grey sweatpants and a black tank top--once again, something Bulma had set out for him. He refused to look at himself in the mirror as he dressed, thanking Kami that the glass was fogged up so he couldn’t even catch a glimpse of himself. 

When he exited the bathroom, a weight was lifted off of his chest. Mai wasn’t in the bedroom the bathroom accompanied. She must’ve still been in the living space conversing with Bulma and the children. He would have time to compose himself a little more before having to be near her. 

But with that extra time came the memories pooling back up to the surface of his mind. He could still feel the same amount of panic he had during the encounter. Could still feel his heart rapidly banging against his broken ribcage. Trunks squeezed his eyes shut as if it would erase it from his mind. The only thing he saw behind his eyes, however, were Black’s eyes staring down at him as he monologued about how weak Trunks was.

He took a gulp of breath and walked to the bed, sitting down on the side furthest away from the door. He rested his elbows on his knees and leaned forward, placing his head in his hands as he stared at the floor. He had to get a handle on himself. He had to repress those images if he even wanted to look at Mai without guilt again. Why did his brain always have to think of her at his lowest moments?

The sound of the bedroom door opening broke him from his thoughts completely. 

He nearly jumped at the sound and tensed up, looking over with wide eyes. He thought he’d have more time to get a grip, but it seemed his time was only a mere few minutes. She was still at the door when he looked over, talking to someone who stood at the door--presumably Bulma. He could see the back of her. She was still in her day clothes--the olive tunic and grey leggings. The anxiety caused his hearing to be muddled, but he did hear her mention something about a shower.

Trunks shook his head to get the mud out of his ears and watched as she closed the door to the room and faced him. She smiled. He felt his heart tug and his stomach drop at the sight. His heart and brain were at war. His heart told him he could confide anything in her, and she’d listen and be supportive. His mind--his diseased, broken mind--told him the opposite. She’d only break him further if she knew.

“Trunks?” 

Her voice broke him from his thoughts once more. He blinked a few times and rubbed at his eyes. “Um, sorry...I spaced out. Did you ask me something?” His voice was soft and shaky, but he prayed she wouldn’t notice. By the frown on her face, it seemed she did notice.

“How long have you been out of the shower?”

“A few minutes…”

Mai furrowed her brows and walked over to him, sitting down right next to him. He could feel the heat rise from her skin through the fabric of her clothes, warming his cold flesh. His palms started to sweat from her closeness. Is it true you can see the trauma of a victim in their eyes? Would she see his?

“You look pale. Are you okay?” She reached forward to touch his forehead, but he flinched back for a moment. It took him less than a second to realize what she was doing, allowing her to feel his cold, sweaty skin. “You look so sleep deprived…”

“I’m fine.” He answered quickly, stumbling over his words. If she knew him like he thought she did, it would be a dead give away that he was lying.

If she did notice, however, she didn’t bother to pry or ask questions. She simply nodded and took a breath, standing up. “Alright. I’m going to take a quick shower, okay? I’ll be out in a few minutes.” She reached forward and tucked one of his still damp strands of hair behind his ear, a small grin on her face. 

She disappeared into the bathroom before he could respond. Once again leaving Trunks alone with his thoughts.

Sighing, he stood up and pulled back the covers, crawling into bed. He shifted himself to be as comfortable as possible, staring at the wall across from him. After a few seconds, he heard the water from the shower turn on. For a while, that’s all he listened to. The gentle flowing of the water down to the shower floor. The occasion sound of a bottle opening as Mai got ready for bed. It was calming. Took his mind off of things. It sounded like rain to him.

Before his mock rain could sing him to sleep, it shut off as fast as it had turned on. He turned his head towards the door when he heard it open, watching as she placed her clothes on the dresser neatly folded. When she moved to get into bed, he saw that she had also folded his clothes, setting them down next to hers.

Trunks felt the bed sink as she crawled in next to him. He prayed she would face away from him and go to sleep, but at least just another pray that would go unanswered. She nestled against him, draping an arm over him like she would have done any other night. He complied and wrapped his own arms around her, but he didn’t pull her close like usual. He instead kept her a distance between them, afraid she’d be able to hear his heart racing or his stomach churning from self-disgust.

This had been the position they had slept in for the past few months. Cuddled up next to each other, they found it was easier to sleep. The world had grown cold, so they sought out solace in the form of each other’s warmth. Of each other’s company. Normally, Trunks would hold her close and refuse to let go until morning. His sudden change in demeanor was what finally triggered her to ask once more.

“...Are you sure you’re okay, Trunks? You know you can talk to me, right?” Her voice held a somber tone as she lightly traced circles into his back. The light touches threw him back to the mockery of affection Black had shown him, causing him to flinch under her touch.

“...” He knew he shouldn’t be lying to her. He knew he should be truthful to her. Or, well, as truthful as he could be. “...I’ll be okay.”

“I’m sure you will, but I want to know about now. Are you okay now?” Mai looked up at him, but Trunks averted his eyes to stare blankly at the wall. He didn’t have the guts to say anything. Didn’t even have the guts to look her in the eyes anymore.

Before Trunks knew it, Mai had reached up and cupped his face. She turned his face to look at hers even if his eyes were looking in a different direction. He could feel the thumb of one of her hands stroke his jaw. “Please at least look at me, Trunks.”

Hearing the tone of her voice broke his heart. He had to give in. For her sake. She didn’t deserve to be treated like a stranger even if that’s what he wanted to do. He took a deep breath and did what she asked. Goosebumps rose on his skin as he stared back into her eyes. Could she see the broken light of a man? Could she see the same images he saw when he closed his eyes? Could she peer into his soul and determine that he was no warrior?

“What happened when we weren’t around?” That damned question just had to flow from her mouth. He wanted to be upset that she asked. Yet he found it hard. She didn’t know what she was talking about. Mai didn’t witness it. Trunks hadn’t told her or anyone. She was completely blind to the assault. The question was as innocent as her.

“...Something...terrible.” He finally managed to choke out those words, struggling to find a way to phrase it that wouldn’t put his dignity in jeopardy.

_ Ah, who was he kidding? His dignity and pride were already gone. _

She must have noticed the tears begin to pool in his eyes when he spoke only two words about the event. He could practically see her heart shatter in front of him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled herself closer to him, hugging him close to her. 

But she didn’t speak. She didn’t ask any more questions. It scared him. Did she know? As much as the idea terrified him, he was glad she wasn’t digging deeper. He didn’t want to relive those moments. He wanted them gone. He wanted to replace them with something else.

During their silence, he adjusted himself so his face was pressed against the crook of her neck. He took deep inhales of her scent--a sweet mix of strawberries and mint. His heartbeat slowed as he stayed there, moving only to pull Mai as close to him as possible. He could feel the warmth of her skin through the thin fabrics of both their clothes.

“I’m-...I’m sorry, Trunks.” Her voice sounded broken; almost as if she were on the verge of tears. He didn’t dare look up to see if he was right. He couldn’t stand seeing her hurt, especially if he was the one who caused it. “I shouldn’t have let you stay by yourself. I should have insisted that I go with you…”

His head was screaming questions at him. Did she know? Did she know? Did she know? How did she know? How did she know? How did she know? He was swimming in his own paranoia at this point, his hands becoming clammy as he ground his teeth.

“It’s not your fault, Mai…” His voice hummed against her skin. He could feel her shift because of it. Whether that was a good or bad thing, he was unsure. Whatever the reasoning was, she didn’t answer him right away. He felt one of her hands play with his hair slowly as if she were comforting him. Or maybe it was to comfort herself.

“Trunks…” Her voice was soft in both tone and volume. She spoke barely above a whisper as if she were trying to hide the shakiness that was in her voice now. He couldn’t handle hearing her cry over him. He didn’t deserve her tears.

Comfortingly, he placed a soft kiss against her neck. And then another. And then another. Each kiss being placed in a different spot from before. He made sure not to linger too long in a singular spot, not to press his mouth down too much on to her skin. But his mind blanked and before he knew it, his kisses were open-mouthed.

He didn’t know what was going on. It didn’t feel like he was controlling himself. As if some unseeable force took over as his hands slid up Mai’s shirt to kneed at her breasts. Maybe his subconscious found this as a way to forget. An unhealthy way, but a way nonetheless. But his conscious mind was screaming that this wasn’t the way. This was only going to hurt them both in the long run, but he still couldn’t find the strength to stop himself. And she didn’t protest against him.

Or maybe this was purely for her. Maybe he subconsciously didn’t want her to know anything was wrong with him sexually even though he was broken. Maybe he hoped she would find comfort in this. He was unsure of his true intentions which made this feel more wrong to him. Why would he initiate something he was unsure of?

Why didn’t he want to stop?

She gasped out his name when he found himself trailing kisses to her chest, sucking and lapping at the peaks. When did he slip off her shirt? When did he crawl on top of her? When did she wrap her legs around his waist?

It was here that he determined he would gain no pleasure in this. No satisfaction. He didn’t deserve her like this. He was tainted. He would taint her if he allowed himself to indulge in lust. She was no pure to be tainted by his doing.

With her mix of breathy moans and airy gasps, he realized his hand was between her legs. Her pants and underwear were gone, leaving her completely bare and exposed to him. He should have been excited. He should have been enthusiastic with what was happening.

Yet he wasn’t. There were no sparks in his groin. No excitement. No enthusiasm. He was soft. And it pained him. He’d been in love with Mai since he had met her. He had dreamed of this moment before, but now it felt broken. He felt broken. Was he broken?

“Trunks..!” The gasping of his name brought him back to the surface. This time his face was pressed where his hand used to be. He fought to stay conscious during this moment, drinking deeply from her as if he had never experienced liquid in his life. He could hear her struggling to keep her noises quiet, not wanting to let the other members of the household know what was going on. But Trunks wanted those sounds from her. Wanted to hear her screams of pleasure to replace his screams of terror.

“Ah! Trunks…”

He felt dirty.

“Trunks, please..!”

He felt wrong.

“Oh God, yes~!”

He felt cursed.

When she finally broke, she came undone with a mix of loud noises ranging from moans to groans. Her hips lifted to press against his mouth, but he didn’t stop feasting until she was relaxed. He pulled back and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, watching as she weakly smiled at him. She held her arms out to him, beckoning for him to come back and join her at her side. Her dampened mood from before was gone.

That’s exactly what he had hoped for.

He did what she wanted, crawling back up to lay down next to her. She cupped his face in her hands and pressed her forehead against his, grinning. “I love you, Trunks.” She whispered and pressed a soft kiss to his mouth before trailing her own kisses down his jawline to his neck.

Trunks laid there, wrapping his arms around her body. He could see his vision blur as tears of guilt pooled into his eyes. He wanted to stop her, but he hadn’t the strength to crash her desires like that. He sharply inhaled as he felt her nibble at his collarbone, deciding to just play along in hopes to make her feel more satisfied.

“I love you, too, Mai.”


End file.
